“Hmm,” Demarkian said.
On the couch, the detectives stirred. “You’re barking up the wrong tree here, Mr. Demarkian,” Detective Mansfield said. “There isn’t this kind of connection.”
“We ought to check, anyway,” Demarkian said. “The books on both churches—has anybody bothered to ask if there were any irregularities in those books?”
“We’re a little early in this case to have gone in for audits,” Detective Emiliani said.
Robert leaned forward. “If you want to know about us, I can tell you right now that there are no irregularities in our books. If there had been, Sister Thomasetta would have noticed. And she would have told me. Or she would have told Sister Scholastica, and Sister Scholastica would have told me. Sister Scholastica is her superior. But Sister Thomasetta did a complete internal audit when she was appointed comptroller back in September. And she’s a very competent woman.”
“I’m sure she is,” Demarkian said. “Let’s try one more thing. What about the settlement that was made with the men who sued the church in the pedophilia scandal? Is the parish part of that settlement? Do you make a monthly payment into a fund, or to the archdiocese, for the restitution payments or the legal fees?”
Robert thought about it. It was shameful, but there were whole segments of parish life he knew very little about. Parish priests were supposed to be hands-on administrators, in charge of every aspect of running their parishes, but he had known from the beginning that his talents in some areas were slight. One of those areas was budgets and finance.
“I’m not entirely certain,” he said, “but I believe that we were assessed a single payment several years ago, and that we now pay a portion of that to the archdiocese every month. We don’t deal directly with the litigants in that case or with their attorneys or with the court. The suit was against the archdiocese principally and only peripherally against the parishes. I think they referred to the suits against us having ‘nuisance value.’”
Demarkian shook his head. “It doesn’t make any sense,” he said. “It really doesn’t make any sense. Does it make sense to you, Father, that somebody would kill Bernadette Kelly and Harriet Garrity?”
“Bernadette is a puzzle,” Robert said drily, “but there was probably a waiting list for Sister Harriet. I’m sorry. I don’t see any reason to disguise the fact that she and I were not exactly friends. No matter what His Eminence says.”
“Forget His Eminence,” Detective Mansfield said. “We’ve already had an earful about how people felt about Sister Harriet. Not exactly a world champion at winning friends and influencing people.”
“No,” Robert agreed.
“I think we can leave you to your life for the moment,” Gregor Demarkian said. “You’ve probably got work to do. So do we. Would you mind doing me just one favor?”
“What favor is that?”
“Do you mind telling me the last time you saw Sister Harriet alive?”
“Oh,” Robert said. “That’s easy. It was at Mass that morning. Seven o’clock Mass. She was there, and then afterward she was downstairs for coffee and doughnuts. We do that after weekday morning Mass so that the people who come on their way to work and want to receive Communion can get something to eat. You’re not supposed to eat for an hour before you receive Communion .”
“And was Sister Harriet her usual self? You didn’t notice anything different about her? She wasn’t particularly upset?”
“Well, Mr. Demarkian, she was particularly upset, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. We’d just told her—I’d told her, on instructions from His Eminence, that I concurred with entirely—she’ d been told that she would have to adopt some sort of distinctive habit if she wanted to go on working in this parish. I don’t mean the long dress and that sort of thing that the Sisters of Divine Grace wear, but something, you know, that would make it clear she was a Sister. The Holy Father has been explicit about this. Members of religious orders are supposed to wear simple but distinctive garb. They aren’t supposed to be running around in sweatpants and blue serge suits.”
“I see,” Demarkian said. “And Sister Harriet didn’t want to adopt a habit?”
“She would rather have eaten cow dung.”
Demarkian shook his head. “That doesn’t get us anywhere, either, does it?” he said. “Thank you, Father. We really will let you get on with your life now.”
Robert nodded politely, and stood while the two detectives got up and made their way to the foyer and their coats. He felt suddenly very light-headed, as if he had just jumped from a tall building and the bungee cord hadn’t taken hold until the last second. He was so exhilarated, he thought he was going to be sick.